


Bat Kisses

by maizeyna



Category: Splatoon
Genre: 8s a serial killer, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Mutual Pining, Vampire Bites, horror fan 8, i mean as his costume, leaving the ending up to the reader bc frankly im tired asf!, splatoween themed bc i love holiday fics, three just reallyyy loves vampires and eight doesnt get it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27189055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maizeyna/pseuds/maizeyna
Summary: “Never took you for the horror movie type honestly,” the inkling grabs his drink, taking a small sip before pointing at the octoling, “but honestly why should I be surprised. You definitely seem like the type to enjoy analyzing complex characters like that.”Eight beamed at that, even if Three didn’t necessarily mean that as a compliment.Eight took another sip of his drink, finishing it off as well. “So, what’s with the Vampire fit. It’s a bit cliche isn’t it? Not judging you, you do look dazzling as a Vampire. I kinda took you as Frankenstein's Monster type myself.”
Relationships: Agent 3/Agent 8 (Splatoon)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Bat Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> well im a kinnie and a homosexual what more can i say

The air in Inkopolis grew colder, the creatures inhabiting the area beginning to bundle themselves up in preparation for the cold incoming Winter, when snow will fall and cover the buildings and roads in puffy white snow, creating joyous snow days for those still stuck in school, but for now Fall has arrived.

The trees have begun to turn crisp warm colors, a complete contradiction from the temperature that comes along with Fall, and break off from their hosts. The early mornings are misty, dew collecting on the grass to tie everything together, but the roads are still bustling amidst everything. The creatures of Inkopolis Square have begun to prepare for the ultimate festival at the end of the month, Splatoween. Splatoween is the two nights where young cephalopods and such partaking in turf wars can really feel themselves, being able to dress up in non-turf war regulated clothes to celebrate, not like the Judd’s ever really cared in the first place.

Splatoween is a time for the young people of Inkopolis to show off, not only their costumes, but their talent in turf, and the power of a united team.

So it all comes back down to the age old question, a question before their races ever evolved to what they had now, a question even the ‘humans’ couldn’t really answer as far as cephalopod research knew.

Trick or Treat?

The sun was beginning to set over the Square, jockeys for Off the Hook were rushing around the square attempting to set things up just perfectly for Pearl and Marina to not have any difficulties for the remainder of the Splatfest.

“I don’t know, I think I’d like a trick waaay more than a treat. A treat will only last you a short time of satisfaction,” Agent 3’s hand hovered over the button to choose teams for Splatoween. He had left the decision last minute, like always. He was quite the indecisive one when it came to Splatfests. “...but a good trick could last you years.”

Agent 8 stared at Three’s hand hovering over the button. 

The cephalings were dressed in their own respective costumes, Three sporting the costume of a regal Vampire, a long cape, old yet stylish looking clothing that only the myths of Vampires could justify anyone wearing, and a pair of long sharp teeth poking out from his lips. Eight had been sporting a simple raggedy looking jacket and flannel, a fake machete, torn black pants, and a lovingly—yet crudely—painted hockey mask resting above his tentacles, something only a horror movie fan like Eight could ever own. Both had fit right in with the crowd, ready to take on the turf wars together.

Yet, as much as he would have liked to play with 3 this Splatoween, he had to disagree. Destiny had always made them have opposing opinions during Splatfest.

“I see your point, but I offer you a counterpoint, Three.”

“Mhm, I’m listening.”

“Sweet treats are good,” Agent 8 slapped his hand down on the Team Treat option, a jingle erupting from the machine before dispensing a T-shirt for the team, something all people participating had to wear regardless of costume. It never stopped the others though, they usually found ways to show off their costumes while adhering to rules anyway.

Agent 3 rolled his eyes for a second before making a gesture of fake thinking for a second, slamming his hand on the Team Trick button after and snatching up his T-shirt, slipping it on after.

“That’s crazy,” Three mocked Eight, exaggerating for emphasis, “I guess we’ll see which is legally better after this all plays out, yeah?”

Agent 8 chuckled under his breath. He loved when Three had gotten competitive over the smallest of things. To be honest, Eight didn’t really care about the holiday. Not like they had anything like this in the underground, but it was nice. Nice to see Pearl and Marina singing their hearts out for the citizens of Inkopolis Square; Nice to see the creatures of the Square come together to celebrate yet another Splatfest, whether it be because they were teaming up to build stronger forces, or just enjoying each other; Nice to see Agent 3 having fun, especially after everything the inkling had been through. It was refreshing in a sense for Eight.

Eight focuses back on Three, giving a sly smile, “I guess we will.”

Eight is content. Everything is right.

“Hey,” Three gently takes a hold of Eight’s free hand to get his attention, “do you want to grab a bite? I haven’t really eaten yet and I don’t want to mess with our upcoming intense Splatfest battles to the death,” Three says laughing under his own breath.

Eight hadn’t really been that hungry, but the only response he gave back at the offer was a small “Sure.”

Eight and Three ventured to Crusty Sean’s truck, waiting a short while in line. Splatfests were always Sean’s best business days, especially with how convenient it was. Who wouldn’t want a refreshing fruity drink and something salty deep-fried and smothered in the lightest cream Inkopolis street food could offer. Perfect for turf kids looking to take a break and relax in the plaza, if you were lucky and picked the team Sean was rooting for, he’d even give you a discount sometimes or a few tickets to use in the future.

The line shortened and finally Three and Eight were ordering, Eight ordering a simple signature Seanwich and Main-Up Guava juice while Three opted for something a bit more his style—the Galactic Seanwich and Sub-Saver Berry juice.

Three and Eight hit up some small talk while Sean was busy whipping their order up and bustling around the tiny truck dubbed ‘The Crust Bucket’ by him ever so lovingly. Upon delivery, Three didn’t even wait until they had paid to bite into a side of his sandwich, earning a scornful gaze from Sean himself to which Three gave him an apologetic smile and tipped him more than what was considered common manners.

“I’m surprised you got such a small Seanwich,” the inkling commented before stuffing his face into his huge sandwich, a crisp crunch earned from the action. The sandwich had been fried just right, “not feelin’ hungry?” Three asked, but it was muffled since he was talking with his mouth full—Panko crust flying from his mouth a little in the process.

Eight found it endearing, especially after everything that's happened to hinder Three’s spirits like beneath the world of the light, Three hasn’t changed a bit. Messy, challenging, and fun. Eight loved being in the other agents presence, something new was always popping up, outside of work or not, like Three attracted chaos around him. Yet, it never seemed to stagger him. He was resilient in his ways.

Eight snapped back into life, eyes nervously darting. Had he been staring at Three?

“Oh, uh, yeah I’m not really that hungry,” Eight took a sip from his drink before resuming, “Not really the type to eat a huge meal, that’s all.”

Three nodded, understanding of the octoling. Both of them stood in a comfortable silence in the bustling chatty Square.

Splatfest was beginning. The sky had turned a fitting gradient orange to purple gradient, the sun just shy of disappearing. Night would begin to fall upon Inkopolis Square soon, but for now, the residents admired the beauty of an ending sunset before a huge celebration. Pearl and Marina would be starting soon. The stages had been set, Marina’s signature keyboard on the top stage and microphones set for the stars to take their places and begin.

“Yo,” Agent 3 piped up from devouring his Seanwich, crumbs littering his cheeks and lips, “before the fest starts, you wanna go somewhere else to eat your Seanwich? The couple minutes before the fest begins are utter chaos.”

Eight nodded, prompting Three to look around the Square before pointing over to where Grizzco Industries stood, a job many kids would take up to make a quick buck or two. Both glanced at each other, a mutual understanding of agreeance before beginning to make their way across the Square to the small quiet corners where the Sun would never hit.

Both of them lean up against the corners, setting their drinks on the grounds next to each other to keep watch of. Eight takes small bites of his Seanwich, not in a rush to exactly shove his face in it. The meal is savory, crunchy, and most importantly delightful. Sean does a good job of satisfying his customers, especially before and after turf or ranked sessions. Eight ponders for a couple of minutes on how he does it, how he satisfies such a large Square on a daily basis, especially in a small food truck. Eight is brought out of his thoughts when Three speaks up, making small chat.

“So,” Three looked Eight up and down to fully take in his costume. “Why a serial killer?”

“I think they’re interesting. I think most serial killers in movies have interesting backgrounds and psyche, especially in the movies when you come to realize their thought process and why they think this way.”

Eight picks his drink up, taking a long sip of it, setting it back down after a couple seconds.

“Besides that, I just think the masks are cool. I mean, c’mon, who wouldn’t want a bangin’ mask to hide the fact they’ve committed a couple crimes?” Eight slips his mask off to let Three observe it.

Three gently takes the mask, looking at the markings and patterns of choice Eight has made. They’re as neat as can be for a 16 year old who threw together a costume with 20 dollars days before the festival. Three hands the mask back, allowing Eight to take it and strap it back onto his head, sliding it over his tentacles as before.

Eight finishes his small Seanwich off, stuffing the wrapping it came into in one of his many costumes pockets.

“If you’d like, I can introduce you to a couple of really good horror movies sometime, I enjoy watching them in my past time.”

“Never took you for the horror movie type honestly,” the inkling grabs his drink, taking a small sip before pointing at the octoling, “but honestly why should I be surprised. You definitely seem like the type to enjoy analyzing complex characters like that.”

Eight beamed at that, even if Three didn’t necessarily mean that as a compliment.

Eight took another sip of his drink, finishing it off as well. “So, what’s with the Vampire fit. It’s a bit cliche isn’t it? Not judging you, you do look dazzling as a Vampire. I kinda took you as Frankenstein's Monster type myself.”

The inkling agent pushed himself off the wall, standing upright before taking the last bite of his Seanwich, hanging onto the paper boat it came in.

“I’ve gotta admit to you, Eight, Vampires are mad hot.” Eight was taken aback by the complete and utter bluntness of Three’s sentence.

“Elaborate, would you?”

“You know how they’re presented in shows as like, y’know, posh and kinda like pristine weirdos who’ve been alive since humans were born? I honestly have no idea why I just find it a ‘lil…” Three begins to crack up, too embarrassed to say anything else.

Eight joins in, chuckling with him. Eight never really realized Three could potentially be capable of having fictional crushes, seemed like something completely out of the box, and yet Agent 3 was just like him. Same age, same jobs, same hobbie. Eight was dumbfounded to have not realized sooner Three was just another 16 year old like him. He didn’t judge him for that. What he did judge him for was his taste.

“A Vampire?”

“Yeah, I know, it’s like, so weird. Even I didn’t expect it.”

“They’re old as hell, I don’t even think they shower,” Eight stopped and remembered something Marie had said once they first got to know each other. “No, wait, nevermind. Not far fetched, Marie did say you smelled when we were getting to know each other.”

Three threw a joking tantrum. “She’s lying! It was one time! I forgot to freshen up and I was too tired and I came into work smelling bad, even though I knew that! It was one time and she won’t let me live it down!”

Eight’s giggles evolved to full blown laughter on his end. “How do you smell so bad your colleague doesn’t stop mentioning it?!” 

“Whatever!” The other agent huffed angrily, yet jokingly. He knew Marie was just playing with him. He honestly loved it when they teased him about it, it’s what made him start to make sure he had proper hygiene everyday.  
Eight calmed down, his laughter slowly falling. The octoling wiped a lone tear from his eye before crossing his arms in a relaxed position. Three took another sip of his drink before finishing it, holding out his hand for Eight’s trash, and throwing both of their trash into a nearby garbage receptacle.

“So,” Eight looked back at Three, a small smiling sneaking onto his face, “anything else you wanna confess about Vampires or what?” Surely Eight and the others would tease Three about this soon. Out of love, of course.

“No, okay, listen, c’mon. You have to admit, when they bite people's necks it’s always so… I don’t know the way they do it just amazes me. Like it’s gentle, and it shouldn’t be!”

“Go on.”

“The way they like, clean the wound, I don’t know man.”

“Care to give a demonstration? I’m having a hard time imagining this. Suddenly, I’ve never seen a Vampire movie,” Eight jokingly retorted.

Three’s face immediately flushed.

“Okay, so like, I know you’re joking, but I can if you want!” Three blurted out, quickly covering his mouth.

‘Intriguing,’ was all that ran through Agent 8’s brain after that. Eight thought of it for a good hard second, of course he knew Three was impulsive and brash, but that impulsive?

Did Three like Eight? Like Eight liked Three? Eight just ended up confusing and flustering himself at the thought that perhaps Three liked him back, more than friends, more than coworkers. More than… Eight swatted the thoughts away, he couldn’t get his hopes up tonight of all nights.

Three stood there awkwardly, staring at his Black boots that gave him unnecessary height--he was already taller than most inklings--mentally pummeling himself for saying that. It’d be embarrassing if Three just exposed himself to liking Eight over Splatoween costumes. Three could only imagine explaining to Agent 4 how it happened.  
‘Oh yeah, Eight and I got together because I accidentally told him about my love for how romantic Vampires are, then he wanted me to bite his neck to show him! Weird huh?’

Three stifled a laugh under his breath, not wanting to alert Eight. Y’know, cause who laughs at their own jokes?

“I’ll bite, I wanna know what you see in all that,” Eight exclaimed, looking frantic at first before calming himself off. “Well, I guess you’ll bite. Get it?” Eight attempted to crack a joke but it just did not land for Three.

“Awesome joke, Eight, gotta love it,” Three commented, sarcastically teasing him.

“Ha ha, thanks for that, Three… So, um,” Eight stood there holding his hands awkwardly, “how do you wanna do this?”

“Here, I’ll walk through my thought process when I demonstrate on you,” Three felt like the Square had just gotten a couple degrees warmer, maybe it was just the costume.

Three gestures for Eight to step in front of him.

Eight follows through, stepping into the place Three intends him to be. Three gently takes Eight’s shoulders, giving him a little motion for him to turn where Three can see half of Eight’s face without the mask on.

“Turn for me, would ya? The pose is like, everything. Vampires love the flair and drama of it all,” Three jokes. It doesn’t quite stick because Eight is too focused on the possibility Three may like him. ‘Tough crowd, huh…’

Eight’s face begins to flare up more as he stiffly turns a 90 degree angle to just barely get a glimpse of Three’s fangs poking from his lips. Three places his hand softly, yet assertively on the lower end of Eight’s back, sending a shiver up what would be Eight’s spine. Three looks over Eight, making sure he has the basics correct.

“In the dramatic old human documents,” Three focuses back on Eight, “humans would position the Vampires to have the non Vampire’s neck exposed for the bite.” Eight takes this as a signal to lean his head back a little, leaving his neck vulnerable for Three’s taking.

“Additionally- do you mind if I help position you?” Eight nods in response, watching as Three uses his other hand to grab Eight’s wrist and wrap it around his own neck, “the non Vampires would look limp and helpless to the Vampires.”

The octoling was so nervous and flustered, hearing that made him realize just how tense he actually was. Eight relaxed far too much at first, almost turning into his octopus form while attempting to relax, ink beginning to drip from his body before remembering what was happening and keeping form.

Laying limp in the guy you like arms as he instructs you to relax so he can just barely bite your neck, it just felt way too fictional for Eight to consider real, pinching himself while Three wasn’t paying attention just to make sure. Eight hissed quietly to himself after that because of how sharp the pinch was before rubbing the spot to comfort it.

He kinda felt really dumb. The octoling could really understand the appeal of Vampires to Three, as long as Three was the Vampire and he was the victim of the bite.

“Perfect posture! Now, the biting,” Three’s face begins to flush more as he realizes what he might have to do now that he’s gotten this far.

The inkling slowly begins to lean in, preparing to narrate himself and just what he finds appealing.

“Took forever for you to get to it,” Eight remarks from beneath him. Three rolls his eyes in response

“As the Vampire leans in to claim his exposed prey, he begins to open his beak to reveal his long and shiny fangs,” Three gnashes his beak's fangs a couple of times to emphasize the fangs. He continues, “the victim is dazed, starstruck from past events that might have occurred prior,” the octopus tenses up once more, as he begins to feel Three’s warm breath inching closer to his neck, exciting him.

There is little space between Eight’s neck and Three’s sharp beak. Eight’s hearts begin to beat faster at the near contact. To Eight, it feels like there’s sparks flying on his neck, electricity beginning to jump from where Three is supposed to bite. Eight stifles his breath in preparation, feeling like he may blurt out his feelings and true intentions with the older inkling on the spot. Three’s hand slides up Eight’s back, aiming to support Eight’s neck and head more, while leaning him back to get a cleaner area for the octolings neck. Eight wobbles when he feels his body bend back more than he intended, but eases into the motion.

“As the Vampire prepares for a filling meal, from the prey he caught and rightfully gets to devour, he smells the prey, taking in the natural scent,” Three pauses for a second, sheepishly stating to Eight “I’m not gonna do that ‘cause that’s kinda weird, but it does add to it I think, I don’t know, continuing on.” Eight muffles his laughter before tensing up again.

“The Vampire looks longingly at his victim, having wished for a better outcome, before coming to terms with the idea that he must eat. There is sympathy in his eyes, and before his prey has the idea of escaping…”

Three grazes his beak's fangs along Eight’s neck, feeling Eight’s breath hitch from the action, a sneer slowly forming. Eight’s mind is swarming with far too many thoughts to have him properly evaluate and address in a situation like this. He is vulnerable, at complete mercy to Three.

“he bites.”

**Author's Note:**

> i like to think three bit his neck and they ended up making out after eight bursts out his confession when three says "he bites". either that or three doesnt and they just went to turf with all that romantic tension


End file.
